Mt Pervert
by Durriken
Summary: What happens when Mineta wins a contest to spend the day with the premiere hero, Mt. Lady? Let's find out.


A/N: I love doing character pieces like this, so enjoy.

**Mt. Pervert**

* * *

**MONDAY**

The amount of tension in the room of Class 1-A was pretty palpable, so much so in fact that even Bakugo and his hyperactive, destructive ass sat in a fit of silence, fists clenched over his desk, his eyes, just like the others, glued on the TV in the corner. From Kaminari to Uraraka, all of them stared intently, waiting for the announcement… itching to see who had won.

It was all the entirety of U.A. could talk about for the past month or so, a frenzy of excited whispers and predictions.

An ominous crack heralded the destruction of Kirishima's desk when he slammed a fist on it, a fist partially enhanced by his Quirk. "You all might as well give up now, there's no way I'm letting you get this prize!" he declared with a manic glance around, a challenging, almost painful looking grin revealing his unusually sharp teeth.

Arms flailing about like he were directing traffic, Iida pointed all five fingers at Kirishima, his glasses flashing with a menacing flair. "I admire your spirit, Kirishima, but no, not today! Victory is in the grasp of those ready to risk it all! And I laid bare my heart when I explained why I should win! Therefore, I will!"

"FUCK! THIS! WAITING!" Bakugo bellowed, and his palms ignited like dynamite, the explosion thankfully contained within his fists.

Kirishima nodded enthusiastically. "I'm with my brother—"

"I'M NOT YOUR DAMN BROTHER!"

"—they need to hurry up!"

"Ahhh, what if I won…?" wondered Uraraka wistfully, and she brought her hands together, those round, exuberant eyes sparkling over with hope. "That'd be so nice... I can't even imagine it but it'd be such an awesome opportunity! Don't you think so, Tsu-chan?"

Nodding with a finger to her lips, Tsuyu leaned back in her chair. "I'm… excited," she croaked, looking the very antithesis of excited. "It'd be nice, Ura-chan."

"Nice, yeah, but all y'all can kiss my ass," Bakugo growled, standing and slamming his palms down over his desk. "_I'm _gonna be the one who wins 'cause I _always_ win."

"Todoroki-kun could quite easily make you eat your own sweaty palms," Aoyama pointed out regally, lifting a finger. "Granted, that has nothing to do with this competition, but it's something I don't feel you would win since you claim to always win."

"I ALWAYS WIN!"

"Except when you don't," came Jiro teasingly. "I swear, I've never seen someone win in such an un-heroic fashion before. I pray for the souls you help when you no doubt become a hero—they won't know if they're being saved or if a new villain just appeared on the scene."

Watching Bakugo spit an unfathomable amount of swears toward both a gleaming Aoyama and a smirking Jiro proved to be a suitable distraction for the next ten minutes, until the front door slid opened and Aizama strolled through looking ill of food poisoning.

Coughing into his hand, he only turned in Bakugo's direction and the blonde-haired boy was suddenly robbed of the light show bursting in his palms. It was only because of that, and the way Bakugo flexed his hand looking confused, that many of the students even realized the arrival of their homeroom teacher.

"SALUTE!" yelled Iida at once, standing and snapping into position, all by himself.

"Good morning, sensei!" rang the others, to which Aizama responded with a barely contained yawn.

"So. Are we ready to find out who won the competition so you can all shut up about it?" he asked, glancing around his pupils. When they all nodded, he noted that every single one of them looked on edge, except for Tsuyu, though she was idly flicking her bottom lip so maybe that was her way of expressing nerves. "Alright, let's see."

On his word, the TV flicked on by itself, bringing into focus the principal, Nezu, dressed in his usual sharp suit and seated behind his desk.

Immediately, all noise within the class died down, everyone reclaimed their seats, and all eyes found the screen.

"Good morning, students of U.A.!" Nezu rang out warmly, clutching an overly decorated golden box before him. "It's so nice of you to—"

"CUT THE STUPID INTRO AND GET TO THE REVEAL ALREADY DAMN!" Bakugo shouted, and, funnily enough, the strength of his voice reached all the way into Nezu's office so that his words reverberated back through the TV.

Following that, Nezu merely froze, his mouth stuck mid-greeting while his eyes stared unblinkingly. Then, after seemingly cranking back to life, he said, "Mr. Katsuki, my office after school."

"NO!"

"Now, moving on… I suppose I shouldn't belabor the point, most of you probably wouldn't even be watching right now if it weren't for _this_," Nezu said understandingly, indicating to the box he held. "But, firstly!"

"DAMN IT!"

"To the students who found out I received the winners name a week ago and went so far as to try and steal this box from me, kudos to your skill, teamwork, and dexterity—it was all for naught, naturally, but to see such brazen unity exhibited by students of U.A. does me good, almost makes me wish more had tried to take the underhanded route." Chuckling, Nezu placed the box on the desk with such tenderness one might think a baby was hidden within. He placed his hand over the lid and shot the camera a smile. "Out of the thousands of entries we received, we've randomly selected one lucky student who will get to spend the entirety of this coming Saturday with the impressive pro hero, Mount Lady!"

One could almost feel the building begin to quiver with the riotous cheering that erupted not only from Class 1-A but from every single other class as well, all of them throwing a fist in the air or else stomping their feet, the excitement reaching a fever pitch that hung on every word out of their principal's mouth.

"Calm yourselves," Nezu urged, lifting his other paw haltingly. "While this is certainly a moment to celebrate, remember: Mt. Lady reached out to _us_ to set this up, crafting this contest in the hopes that the lucky winner take this opportunity to glean all they can from a pro hero. So watch her, observe her, soak up whatever knowledge you can while you can! This golden egg of a chance only lasts one day so don't be shy! She's expecting you to come with a notebook of questions, and she's ready to answer them all!"

"I wonder what her diet consists of?" Rikido asked aloud, arms crossed with his foot tapping impatiently.

"_That's _what you'd wanna ask her?" Mina looked positively disgusted. "Of all the much better questions in the atmosphere, you'd ask what she eats?"

Looking somewhat confused by her reaction, Rikido shrugged. "Well… yeah, it's important, ain't it? A pro hero has to maintain their physique to stay in the game so coming from her, a pro who so obviously takes care of her figure, I think that'd be something worth knowing."

While Mina now looked contemplative, her eyebrows lifting with realization, Izuku spun around in his chair, which was needless as Rikido was seated in front of him. "See, Sato's got the right idea!" he exclaimed, twisting back around and pointing. "That question is based on your Quirk, isn't it, Sato?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, pretty much."

"Exactly! We should take this chance—whoever wins—to find out tidbits that can play to our strengths and lessen our weaknesses! Mt. Lady is a pro, I'm sure there's a lot we can learn, both practical and quirk-worthy, that can help us all be better hero's!"

"That is precisely the point, Mr. Midoriya," Nezu continued, showcasing his enhanced sense of hearing to an otherworldly degree. "Take this chance, my students, take this chance and grow! And noooow—"

He slowly lifted the lid, drawing a collective gasp from everyone watching.

"—the winner issss—"

He pulled out a single strip of paper and unfurled it.

"It's—"

For only an instant, the look that fell over Nezu's face suggested he had just seen a blood-oozing slug wiggling about his food—but then he fixed his mouth into this strained rictus reminiscent of a smile, and turned the slip around to face the camera.

"C…Congratulations to—"

"MINETAAAAAAA?" Bakugo roared, and he wasn't the only one who rounded on the small boy with shiny purple balls for hair. "WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUCK?"

It seemed as if that one profanity laden line had been yelled in unison by every single other soul within the school.

Looking wholly surprised but thrilled, Mineta had just opened his mouth when Momo let loose an exasperated groan.

"Talk about a wasted opportunity," she sighed, planting her face in her palm. "Out of all the people to get it, why him…?"

"That's right!" Toru agreed vehemently, invisibly. "There's no way this pervert actually won! I call a do-over! Dooooo-over!"

Glancing behind him, Sero shot the stunned Mineta a thumbs up. "Well, can't say I'm not disappointed, but hey, congrats, Mineta," he said with a good-natured grin. "Getting to hang around a beauty like Mt. Lady… man, talk about your dreams come true."

Looking every bit the picture of someone struggling to hold in their vomit, Iida rigidly approached Mineta and clamped a heavy hand over his shoulder. "I… it's r-really… I m-mean—" he tried stringently, lips barely moving, eyebrow twitching, but then he exhaled, shoulders lumping with a sort of resigned defeat, before righting himself. "Mineta! You won fair and square so... so be sure to walk with the knowledge that you're representing the entirety of class 1-A—"

"He ain't representing shit but my holly jolly ass!" was what Bakugo spit out in a frothing fury three seconds before snatching Izuku's chair out from under him in an attempt at chucking it at Mineta. "You little purple-haired bastard... how'd you win? huh? HOW? Did you switch out my name for yours? I bet you did, you scheming—"

With minimal effort, Aizawa shot out his specially engineered cloth, wrapped it around the chair in Bakugo's clutch and snatched it free. "Alright, alright, settle down," he ordered lethargically, catching the chair, twisting it behind him, and falling into it all in one smooth motion. "Mineta won. It's a done deal." He picked up the remote and pointed it at the TV—Principal Nezu was still shell-shocked, still unable to speak the name of the winner past his own unwillingness to believe—and flicked it off. "Judging by this response, I think it's fair to say that many of you are having some mixed feelings about this."

Shoji, Todoroki, and several others shrugged, ambivalent about the whole thing from the onset, while Mina, Momo, and Bakugo looked particularly scorned. Despite now being forced to stand since Bakugo stole his chair, only to then have it stolen by Aizawa, Izuku in particular looked a special kind of crestfallen, but it didn't carry the same bitterness that adorned the faces of his fellow classmates.

"Hey, Mineta?" he called and when the shorter wannabe hero sheepishly turned to him, expecting to no doubt be further reamed, all Izuku did was nod. And it was baffling, the sheer amount of comfort and emotion such a subtle motion conveyed; it brought a relieved smile to Mineta's previously constrained face. "I'm sure you won for a reason—"

"YEAH BECAUSE THE LITTLE PUNK CHEATED AND SWITCHED MY NAME OUT!"

"—so you have to make sure you seize this chance," Izuku continued seamlessly, ignoring Bakugo, who was being restrained by both Kirishima and Koda. "You can learn a lot from Mt. Lady—"

"Yeah!" joined Mina, almost accusingly, placing a firm hand on her hip and jabbing a finger in Mineta's forehead. "This is a pro hero you're gonna get to meet, not some random nobody! So show her some respect, you get me? None of that perverted stuff! No peeping in on her, latching onto her like you did Momo—"

"Pleeeeease don't remind me of that," Momo shivered.

"You're class 1-A's ambassador to a pro hero, Mineta," Tokoyami said sagely, nodding to himself, "so take great care not to bring shame unto us."

"Oh, well, if shame is what we're avoiding here then I'd say we're well screwed," Jiro said with a quirky grin, chin in her hand. "Hey, Mineta, why don't you just give that ticket to me, yeah? Give it to someone who has actual plans for it."

Now Mineta looked somewhat indignant. "I do have plans for it," he told her, only to have Kaminari clap him over the back with a righteous laugh.

"Trying to feel those hips ain't a plan, Mineta," he said. "She's a looker, no doubt about it, but we're talking serious here. You know, hero stuff."

Craning his neck, Mineta curiously glanced at the classroom door, then back to Kaminari, jerking a thumb at the plague just on the inside. "Last I checked, I was in class 1-A, too."

"Fluke of the year," Toru said, and her oddly floating assortment of clothes fluttered over to Mineta. "Here, grab my thigh."

Instantly, Mineta's face went blank while Iida's flared a magnificent shade of carmine. "H-h-h-hey! What's this about?" he blustered, arms flailing every which way.

"I'm telling him to touch my thigh," Toru said as if it were the most normal demand ever, as if that would be an easy feat considering she was invisible. "This is a real chance to get a one-up on the other classes and no offense, Mineta-kun, but it'd be a waste on you, don't you think? We all know you just wanna get close to Mt. Lady so you can cop a feel but she's not gonna let you and poof, golden egg gone. So, give that egg to _me_ annnnd… in return… I'll let you grope my thigh for ten whole seconds."

"She's serious..." muttered Uraraka, nursing a fair amount of blush in her cheeks.

"Supremely so, _ribbit_," Tsuyu said, watching this more intently than she had the actual announcement.

"You might as well take that deal, Mineta," said Ojiro, leaning back in his chair with the help of his sturdy tail. "I'm not upset that you won but she's talking facts. Mt. Lady would squash you like a bug if you tried anything stupid so you might as well get what you realistically can and enjoy it."

Mina was gnawing on her thumbnail, staring between Mineta, whose jaw was hanging, and Toru, unable to see much of the brazen invisible girl. "Ooooooo, darn it, darn it,_ darn it_! If this was _anybody_ else—ANYBODY—I'd throw my hat into that game so fast!" she whined.

"I second that," Momo added tautly, "but the thought of that little pervert touching me, for _any_ length of time, is just… eeeeugh…."

"Oh, that's what they all say in the beginning," Mineta said jokingly, nonplussed, "until they feel the Mineta Touch. ...Get it? See, it's like the Midas Touch, but be—"

"If you're not turning things to gold then it's infinitely worse!" Iida concluded boisterously.

"Just means I want it more," Toru told Momo almost proudly, summarily ignoring Mineta's attempt at a joke, and her gloved hands began to teasingly lift one end of her skirt. "This is okay, right sensei?"

Frozen halfway in the act of stepping into his sleeping bag, Aizawa blinked. Then shrugged. "It really doesn't matter to me. If Mineta wants to trade his ticket for whatever you're offering, let it be. If not, let _me_ be and get to your first classes."

And he summarily flumped to the floor.

"Sooooo, go ahead, Mineta, this way you're helping us both out," Toru reasoned coyly.

This new wager had unintentionally garnered everyone's undivided attention; they were all staring in wait, barely breathing, anxious to see which way Mineta would go, whether he would try his luck with Mt. Lady or take what was guaranteed right in front of him.

"Mineta…." Izuku muttered, eyebrows furrowed.

Gulping, Mineta reached out a trembling hand—

"YOU PIECE OF CHEWED UP BUBBLE GUM, YOU BETTER NOT HAVE BEATEN ME JUST TO GIVE IT AWAY FUUUUUCK!"

—and, in an act that sent ripples of shock throughout everyone present, he slowly pulled Toru's skirt back down.

"Well, I'll be," Todoroki murmured with a soft grin.

"I'm… gonna meet Mt. Lady," Mineta said with a rarely heard note of firmness, grabbing his trembling hand by the wrist in order to pull it back before primal urges got the better of him, "although… if you wanna keep that offer open until _after_ I—"

"Not on your life," Toru interrupted cheerfully, "but… I'm impressed Mineta. Like, legitimately impressed. Didn't think you had it in you, that was pretty cool."

"Pretty stupid, you mean," Kaminari corrected with a snort, "I'dda been all over those thighs."

Toru bumped Kaminari with her hip. "Oh hush, lightning rod."

There was so much chaos throughout the class of 1-A, from Bakugo continuing to rage about the unfairness of "stupid ass tests" to Uraraka questioning Toru about her sudden lewdness to Izuku, Todoroki, and Iida discussing what Mineta could possibly take away from his impending meeting, that no one noticed Mineta had slipped out of the room after carefully stepping over a blissfully sleeping Aizawa.

**LATER THAT DAY**

"Takeyama-sama? We, uh… we have the results of the hero-in-training who won the contest at U.A."

Seated at the island of her kitchen and dressed in robes of a glistening silk, Yu Takeyama, the hero formerly known as Mt. Lady, had a newspaper in one hand and a mug in the other. She hadn't glanced up when one of her assistants walked into the room, and even after hearing the news, she still didn't deem it worthy to lift her eyes yet, choosing instead to take a lengthy sip of her coffee. As far as her schedule was concerned, her day didn't start until around midday; she had a few more minutes of leisure time.

"So are we going to play the pronoun game or are you just going to tell me?" she wondered, setting down the paper to cover the yawn that followed her words. "And please, please, _please_ tell me it was that cutie Todoroki-kun. Having that melancholy little bonbon on my arm for a whole day would be like a dream come true!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around herself in a wiggling hug. "Imagine the press, the buzz! I'd be on the cover of every magazine! I can see the title now: Beautiful Pro Hero Mt. Lady spends day with son of the number two hero, Endeavor-sama!"

Her assistant, a young woman with spiky purple hair, curt hazel eyes, and dressed in a hugging black suit, cringed most noticeably. Not because of Mt. Lady's antics—no, she was well used to that by now—but more because she knew the dreaded truth contained within the letter she carried.

And she knew it was about to get real ugly.

"So? Come on, come on, tell me!" Yu ushered excitedly, twisting in her chair to visually take in her assistant now. She crossed her legs, looking expectant. "Which promising young soul won the grace of my presence?"

It was almost physically painful, lifting that letter, but lift it her assistant did, her face beginning to scrunch with dread. With a trembling hand, she pulled the slip of folded paper out and made a right deal about unfolding it, like she were dealing with a bomb that would go off at the slightest jostle.

"You know, I appreciate the build-up of anticipation," Yu told her funnily, "I'm on pins and needles over here, really, I am, but if it's all the same to you, sometime today would be just great."

"Y-yes, ma'am…." It was useless, sending a prayer up to the heavens that everything would turn out fine, because the assistant already knew it wouldn't. Yu Takeyama was Mt. Lady—the_ actual _Mt. Lady! One of the most prominent pro heroes of recent years, a rocket of a personality that shot up the rankings thanks to her melting charisma, bubbly charm, and… whatever other C-word that fit the theme she was going for that explained all the ways Yu Takeyama needed, deserved, and demanded the best.

And the student who won the contest was, by and large, as far away from anything that could even be loosely described as the 'best'.

"The, um… the student who, er, who w-won is…." Speaking was tough, every word out of her mouth was haggard and gravelly, forced out with so much reluctance that her stomach began to churn. "It's… that boy."

The look on Yu's expectant face didn't shift an inch in the wake of that extremely vague answer. She only blinked. "That boy," she repeated casually. "Okay, that's one half the answer, I suppose. That boy. Nice, we have a gender. Now then, the other half, if you please, Miyuki."

She prayed for a hurricane. Maybe an earthquake. Hell, even an alien invasion would have been preferred, entirely welcomed, as opposed to reading the name written down, but Miyuki was a woman of valor, of courage and unrelenting determination. This? This right here was nothing. She had this.

"The student who won the contest and who Miss Takeyama must spend the day with is Minoru Mineta!" she barked out.

It's what she said, and she'd said it quite clearly, so when Yu continued to stare without batting an eyelash, Miyuki felt as though swept up into the eye of very dangerous storm. She could feel it in the air and didn't dare move a muscle for fear of turning herself into a moving target for Yu's impending rage.

"Mineta, eh?" Ruffling her hair, Yu adopted a thinking face as she reached for her mug. "Okay," she said after a few sips, during which Miyuki had all but sweated her clothes off. "That's fine, this is fine."

Where Miyuki stood, nothing about this situation was fine. "What do you mean '_fine_', Takeyama-sama? This is anything but fine!" she stressed. "If it _had_ been Todoroki-kun, then yeah, sure, fine—but this is bad! Really, really bad! With Todoriki-kun came exposure, we had a plan all set in place on how to use this to our advantage!" She cast an aggravated glance at the crumpled slip of paper in her hand. "How in the world are we going to use this? No one knows this kid, he's got no infrastructure, no base, he's got _nothing _we can use!"

In contrast to Miyuki as she began to short-circuit, Yu remained the perfect picture of poise as she once again picked up the newspaper, reopening it back to where she'd left off. "Mimi, calm down, okay? Like I said, this is fine. It won't happen," she said bluntly.

And now Miyuki was confused. So confused, she momentarily left her hysterics behind and twitched. "It... it won't happen? You mean you're not going to go through with it?" Relief flooded her face and she exhaled into a nod. "Good, good—I agree, that's the best course of action considering our options."

It was always delightful to hear Yu give one of her perfect giggles, but this time it only caused Miyuki to quirk a brow.

"No, no, no, I'm still going to go through with it, Mimi. What won't happen is spending the day with Mt. Lady," Yu clarified, flipping over to an article about insect repellant for masks.

That did very little to assuage Miyuki's curiosity. "What do you mean, ma'am?"

A sale was a sale and Yu loved sales, so she ripped out a small portion of the paper that gave her ten percent off the repellant. "I mean, it's the other way around. Little Mineta-kun isn't going to want to spend the day with _me._"

"Then he's clearly a fool," came the succinct reply.

Folding the coupon into a neat little square, Yu smiled, holding it out for Miyuki to take, which she dutifully did. "Oh, he'll have very good reason not to, but time will tell if I'm right or not."

* * *

**TUESDAY**

"GIVE ME THE DAMN TICKET ALREADY!_"_

An explosion rocked the entire hallway from one end all the way to the other, sending a wall of billowing smoke in every direction—and somehow, probably thanks to his small stature, Mineta managed to roll down an adjacent hall, reaching up to snatch two purple balls from his head.

"NO!" he shouted into the smoke, from which the furious sound of stampeding footsteps could be heard, and he slammed the sticky orbs just behind him and took off running. "Just take the loss—I'm not giving you my ticket!"

"I _never _lose, you fucking personification of grape juice—" Blasting down the hallway, Bakugo turned on a dime, landing heavily on both feet and stepping through the dust to see Mineta at the far end, running as fast as his little legs would take him. "You're Deku-levels of pathetic, you know that?" His palms ignited threateningly. "When I catch you, I swear I'm gonna—OOF!"

In his haste to follow, Bakugo didn't realize he had stepped in Mineta's trap until his feet refused to lift and he pitched forward, colliding nose-first with the ground.

"MIFFFFUUUUGHHHH!"

Whatever Bakugo was trying to scream through the tiled-floor that his face was mashed against, Mineta didn't catch it, but it sounded twice as menacing as usual.

It was only Tuesday. Four more days until Saturday. Four more days… and already everyone was up in arms over his unprecedented win. True, even Mineta was surprised, he never won anything, but still, _this_ amount of desperation was off the charts. If he didn't have power-hungry students like Bakugo hounding him—see threatening to throttle him with their Quirks—then there was the female populous at large trying to seduce in very much the same way Toru had tried the day prior, except with far less subtlety.

From what Mineta could gather, it seemed the general consensus was that anybody else would have at least been partially acceptable—even that one guy four classes over whose only Quirk was growing his eyelashes (God knows how he got accepted into U.A.)—but for him to win, the midget with his purple-balled hair in some stupid looking mohawk? Oh no, that was unacceptable. No one was taking that lying down and was putting forth every tactic that straddled the fine line between legal and criminal into ousting him out of his prize, whether physically or mentally.

There were chunks here and there who just didn't care, like Todoriki, and then there were those who took a strange kind of sadistic pleasure in pointing out his hiding areas to the others, like Monoma from class 1-B—

—who had just come waltzing around the corner, his eyes slowly widening with malicious glee upon landing on Mineta.

"C'mon, not you!"

"Oh lookie lookie, what do we have here?" Monoma began snidely, his voice steadily rising with each word. "Don't tell me! Is that YOU, Mineta? From CLASS 1-A? THE LUCKY WINNER OF—MMPH!"

Mineta had leapt up, shoving a purple ball straight into Monoma's mouth, which turned the rest of his sentence into an enraged, garbled mess.

"Don't try to tug that off!" Mineta shouted, skidding around another corner. "It'll leave a nasty mark!"

* * *

**Wednesday**

"So, what you're saying is… even if I throw in this ultra rare, limited edition All Might card—with only fifty copies in rotation, mind—that you _still_ won't pass over that ticket?"

Sporting a rather large bandage over his right eye from an earlier fight, Mineta looked down at the bevy of collectible trading cards laid out before him over the common room table and shook his head, even if a piece of his soul crumbled away into a bitter dust doing so. "I already told you, Sero, it's not happening. 'Sides, I don't even have it on me—the principal does, said he figured something like this would happen and didn't want to take chances."

"Smart choice, r_ibbit_," Tsuyu croaked, walking just behind them.

"Well, nuts to this, then—I'm not going any higher than that," Sero said with a sigh of defeat, and he, along with Mineta, shuddered when an ungodly cold shadow fell over them.

They both looked over to see Izuku looming in their midst, standing unnaturally still with his eyes frightfully wide, pupils trained on the glistening All Might card betwixt them.

"S-S-S-Sero-san… that's not… I mean, there's n-no way th-th-that could be…." Izuku was shaking, teeth chattering and all as he pointed with a trembling finger. "The s-super rare All Might card that even All Might himself s-s-s-signed?"

It was clear by the look on Sero's face, that painfully scrunched expression, that this was the exact scenario he had been trying to avoid. "Yeah, it is," he said, picking it up and indicating to the signature near the bottom. "See?"

"That's pretty awesome," Mineta commented while Izuku went red in the face, looking like a tea kettle about to explode. "And you were really gonna trade that for a day with Mt. Lady? I should hit you."

"Looks like someone already hit _you_," Sero noticed, glancing at Mineta's eye patch. "Besides, it's just a card," he added with a shrug, and he would have said more, but it was at that moment that Izuku's wig quite literally flipped.

"_JUST A CARD_?"

One would swear Izuku had just channeled Bakugo, who was some feet away with his face knee-deep in a shrimp bowl but, like everyone else, was now looking up at the sudden explosion, because the strength at which Izuku yelled tipped Sero and his chair right over.

"Who let Present Mic in here?" Kaminari yelled, struggling to be heard over the forceful knowledge Izuku was pummeling a sideways and dazed Sero with, going into unnervingly great detail about why that legendary card was anything but 'just' a card.

"I dunno but who made the parfaits?" Mineta asked, having moved away from ground zero to the dessert table.

"I did," Rikido said, raising a hand, and almost immediately Mineta felt daft for missing the fact that one of the biggest members of their class was wearing an obscenely bright yellow apron that read _Sweets to Beat_. "Decided to switch it up from the usual cakes, what do you think?"

Mineta flipped him a thumbs up, as did several others close enough to hear. "Freaking delicious."

"Trade you the recipe for that ticket," Rikido offered in all sarcasm.

"Nah, wouldn't do me any good," Mineta replied, finished with one cup and reaching for another. "I can't cook for beans."

"You can't superhero for beans either so you're two for fucking two," Bakugo barked out, sounding garbled by his mouthful of spicy Yakitori skewers.

Were Mineta going to retort, which he wasn't as Rikido's parfaits were quickly becoming his new addiction, he wouldn't have been heard over the sound of the common door being blown clean off its hinges. It skidded across the ground at a breakneck pace, crashing into the food table and upending the whole thing.

Almost as if a death had occurred, silence fell: Jiro had turned down the music, conversation died, and Izuku stopped mid-rant as every eye fell upon the wasted food.

In the now destroyed doorway stood several figures ranging from small to overbearing, skinny to gigantic, all of them huddled into one teeming, shadowed mass. And from that massive throng, Monoma strolled forward at ease, only taking about five steps before stopping. Even though he was sporting his usual smug smile, there was a very angry-looking red mark all around his mouth. "Beg pardon for the rudeness," he began with a curt little bow and sweeping his arm out behind him, "it's just… how do I say this? Me and a couple of other like-minded students feel—"

"Shut. The _fuck_. Up."

The rage that laced each of Bakugo's words was bone-chilling, and when he stood, he wavered on the spot with half a yakitori skewer hanging from between his lips. Something like a demon thrashed just beyond the pupils that he snapped onto Monoma.

"You… _bastard_."

Looking confused, Monoma placed a hand over his chest. "Excuse me, Mr. 'Splosion Man? What did you just call me?"

"Dead. I called you dead, 'cause I'm gonna kill you," Bakugo rasped, sounding as though he had just crawled up from the grave.

Brushing off the threat with a roll of his eyes, Monoma made a shooing motion with his hand. "We've no time for your theatrics, Katsuki. We're here for Mineta—"

"—and now you got _us_," growled Kirishima, and he, too, began to stand, looking just as woebegone as Bakugo. "Congratulations."

As all of class 1-A stood, it was like a scene out of the most horrible zombie movie ever conceived, the way they were lurching up, wavering on the spot, heads rolling limply on their necks—

"What in the world...?" There was a clear hesitancy in Monoma's tone, and the urge to take a step back in the face of the walking dead before him was evidenced by the way his leg twitched.

"You... you spilt our food," Mineta breathed, leading his classmates on a slow, menacing march toward Monoma. "And over something so stupid as... just because of that ticket...?"

"Firstly, if you want Mineta, you must want _all_ of us," Tokoyami rasped, and from the mass of shadows gathered behind him, two bright yellow slits burst into life, narrowing themselves at the crowd just behind Monoma. "He is part of our class and our class moves as a single unit. And secondly—"

"YOU WASTED OUR FOOD!" came an incensed yell and several eyes landed on Uraraka, who looked the very picture of upset with her face scrunched up and fingers flexed threateningly. "Sato-kun worked really, really hard making all those tasty treats for us and you... you just..."

She tapped the four-seater couch next to her with all five fingers, then effortlessly picked it up, hefting it over her head. "Someone's gonna get a spanking..."

"That's not what you spank people with!" someone yelled from the throng of intrusive students. "Are you crazy?"

"What a rude thing to ask," Uraraka replied solemnly, rearing back while Mineta pulled several purple balls from his scalp and stuck them to the couch. "I'm not crazy"—and she pitched it forward, bringing her fingertips together and returning the piece of furniture to its full weight—"I'M HUNGRY!"

The couch flew right over Monoma's head and crashed into the doorway just behind him with an unholy rumble that shook the entire floor.

The first to move was Momo, the look on her normally relaxed face harsh and unforgiving as she lifted her shirt and pulled a very long and slim metal rod from her midsection. "Kaminari!" she shouted, hurling it at Monoma, who easily stepped to the side, allowing it spear the couch wedged in the doorway. "NOW!"

Instantly, a great burst of lightning cracked to life around the yellow-haired boy who had previously been mourning the lose of his dessert, but he stood now with his arms outstretched, hands pointed at the confused army of students stuck to the couch thanks to Mineta's quirk and struggling desperately to get away.

"You jerks...This is for my parfait," was all Kaminari whispered, barely audible, before the biggest bolt of lightning exploded from his conjoined palms, streaking toward the rod jutting from the couch. "May it rest in piece... _like you_."

Several terrified, trapped voices rang out together: "HOLY SH—"

* * *

**THURSDAY**

Mineta turned around and just stared. "This is getting kind of old, don't you think?"

Many considered it unsanitary, the way Mineta casually strolled around the school with the patch over his eye now completely soaked with blood, but changing it time after time whenever he overdid it with his quirk had become troublesome, so he opted to leave it as is until after the meeting with Mt. Lady.

A meeting that seemingly everyone at U.A., save for his classmates, seemed to be against. And rather openly. Violently, even. Somewhere, somehow, Mineta figured he must have missed the broadcast that allowed anyone to flagrantly attack him, at anytime, anywhere, so long as the reason lie in trying to retrieve his golden ticket.

That most certainly wasn't the case, it couldn't be, but it was the only reason that made sense given that no consequence befell any of the students that had joined Monoma in attacking him and his class the day prior. Granted, none of Class 1-A had been punished either—and Aizawa didn't so much as bat an eye when half the class trundled into home room earlier that day looking worse for wear.

Mostly because the subject of conversation centered around the four-way take-down utilized yesterday. The way Uraraka, Mineta, Momo, and Kaminari had performed was something Iida felt compelled to discuss at length, which prompted discussion on a larger scale concerning team attacks and the positives of developing moves that complimented others. It was... fun, actually, really engaging, and Mineta even found himself animatedly discussing with Jiro about the thus far three different ways their quirks could match up.

"..._no, no, look—I could have my guitar, right, my second best one, plug up, and give it a big old twang—and that's where you'd come in—"_

"_Yeah, yeah, 'cause something like that is gonna send your boyish body flying so I'll take one of my Pop Sphere's and stick you to the ground so you don't lose balance. You're gonna have to work on your legs, though; gonna take muscle to keep upright even if your feet are planted._"

"_Back-handed remark aside, yeah, that sounds cool—we gotta talk to Aizawa-sensei about booking some training time..._"

Even Bakugo and Kirishima had sequestered themselves into a little corner to talk about ways to "explosively kill" their opponents.

Although now Mineta stood with his lunch tray in the cafeteria, staring up at the two students from class 1-B staring down at him, that discount Kirishima guy, Tetsutetsu and, uh... well, Mineta didn't really who the other one was—

"My name is Hiryu Rin," the boy clarified, possibly tipped off by the way Mineta stared inquisitively at him with one eyebrow raised.

—but he didn't really care either, and just shrugged.

"Okay, well, nice to meet you guys but as you can see," Mineta jiggled his lunch tray, "foods calling and since neither of you are a pair of succulent thighs, you are therefore inedible. See ya."

Mineta had only taken one step to the side when something that looked like a green scale pierced the ground right next to his foot. The past couple of days of being consistently harassed and attacked and ridiculed had greatly increased Mineta's prowess for quick thinking and in less than the time it took to blink, he figured it must have been Hiryu who fired that scale as Tetsutetsu had a quirk similar to Kirishima's.

"We just want to talk," Hiryu said conversationally, and Mineta could see the armor-like covering of green scales slinking back into the flesh of his forearm. "Don't be rude."

That was a line Mineta was quickly growing to hate. Don't be rude. Said to him usually by the ones doing the rudest things possible. Like right now, disturbing his lunch. The irony made him want to laugh; the situation made him want to fight.

"Look, steel man and feather boy, I just—want—to _eat_," Mineta ground out, and he truly did; they had made fish and miso soup and the smell was causing his stomach to growl with anticipation. This whole week had been horrible in regards to his eating regimen and for once, just _once_, he would have liked to eat a full meal and not just what he could hastily shove in his mouth as he dodged a dual-sided attack. "I don't even have the ticket on me! Look, check my pockets—you could whip my scrawny butt right now and it wouldn't matter! You'd get nothing, _nothing_, and beating me isn't exactly a hard thing to do, it's not gonna get you any bragging rights, the girls aren't gonna start throwing their panties at you in droves, there is nothing to be gained by—"

Hiryu suddenly lifted a piece of paper, a flyer, one of the ones used to promote the competition in the first place, except now it was different, most likely repurposed after Mineta won. Underlined in what looked like blood were the words "_whosoever manages to best Minoru Mineta will be the new owner of the ticket_" and the rest of the words were scratched, because the rest of the flyer didn't matter. The meat of it was already underlined.

After reading and rereading that one line, Mineta let loose an egregious sigh. "Oh..." it explained so much in the way of why so many were hounding him for something he didn't even physically possess that he could feel the blood begin to boil in his stubby limbs. Not only had he been tricked, and quite stealthily at that, but because of this, he could kiss enjoying his lunch goodbye.

Hanging his head in defeat, mentally resigning himself to his fate, Mineta turned around and set his tray up on the railing, giving it one last wistful look before facing forward again. He plucked a sphere from his head and clutched it tightly. The cafeteria was packed with students and scarce teachers, none of his classmates though as Mineta had chosen to eat an hour early, hoping not to drag them into another altercation—just like the one he was currently gearing up to deal with.

"So... we gonna dance or what?" Mineta asked with a gaunt expression. It matched his gaunt appearance. For the past four days, the care he took in his personal upkeep had taken a serious dive. His U.A. issued uniform was grungy, adorned with the battle marks he had sustained since winning that accursed competition while his face bore several cuts in addition to the blood-stained patch over his eye; even his usually perfectly circular hair spheres had grown fuzzy. He looked the very definition of mangled.

"We're not here to fight you, Mineta!" Tetsutetsu barked, folding his arms across his chest and flexing his muscles.

"Oh yes you are," Mineta corrected, reaching up and pulling another sphere free, "'cause I'm not gonna willingly give you my ticket, which is what you're here for... so we're about to have ourselves an old fashioned throw dow—"

A green scale skirted over Mineta's cheek, probably would have pierced him between the eyes if he hadn't inched his head a ways to the side, and a slow trickle of glistening red escaped the cut in his flesh.

Mineta gave a tired grin. "Not even gonna let me finish talking? Now look who's being rude..."

* * *

**FRIDAY**

"Yo, grape juice, how ya' holding up?"

"I'm great. Why, don't I look it?"

"You looked fucked up."

That was an understatement. Mineta had seen what he looked like that morning as he checked himself out in the bathroom mirror, and it wasn't exactly pretty. That fight with Tetsutetsu and that Hiryu guy had left its mark in numerous ways from the bruise purpling just under his working eye to the bandages stuck to his lower left jaw. The other scrapes, mostly the razor thin slices brought about by Hiryu's flying scales, were hidden nicely by his clothes—although he had to admit, the strength of Tetsutetsu's punches were something straight out of a cheat code for stupid strength. Even using his spheres absorbency and rebounding tactics almost wasn't enough to withstand a straight-forward hit.

Besides that, a general soreness had seeped into Mineta's very bones, which made basic functions such as breathing and walking a chore of the highest degree. Sympathetic to his situation, however slight, Aizawa-sensei had allowed him to sit out of home room, which Mineta greatly appreciated.

So when the door to their common room suddenly opened, Mineta jerked, at first with anxiety, his hand shooting for his hair, but then he saw that it was Bakugo and settled somewhat, continuing to lay spread-eagle over the replacement couch that class 1-B's Monoma had paid for.

"Did you really take on those bastards from 1-B by yourself?" Bakugo asked, setting down a mug of some steaming liquid.

"Took 'em on, took 'em down," Mineta responded heavily, with half his face buried in the cushion.

"Bull. _Shit_. How do I know you're not lying? You _won _the contest so I know you're a cheater, you might be a liar, too," Bakugo reasoned bluntly, using finger quotes on the word 'won'.

To this, Mineta shrugged. "I don't care if you believe me, but I still got my ticket. Wouldn't have it if I'd lost. Found that little tidbit out yesterday..."

That seemed to be enough of an answer for Bakugo because he fell silent, a surprising new look for the usually explosive blonde bomb.

"I can't wrap my head around you beating that steel guy with the retarded name," Bakugo uttered, lounging in one of the armchairs. His eyebrows were knitted together, although whether with sincere thought or because a scowl was his permanent facial expression, Mineta couldn't tell. "That bastard's tough like Eijiro..."

Talking was a pain, it really was, but it was also a distraction from the soreness claiming a majority of Mineta's throbbing body. "Might be tougher, actually," he got out, flipping onto his side to face Bakugo. "Those punches almost knocked the juice outta me..."

To this, Bakugo snorted somewhat, throwing his head back and sneering up at the ceiling. "It's been one helluva week, I'll say that much." He side-eyed Mineta, that ferocious snarl notwithstanding. "Tch, thanks to you, I've gotten into some of the biggest fights of my life at U.A. I hate to admit but I'm kinda glad you won... 'cause all I gotta do is wait for all the wolves to come try to kill the bunny, and when they do?"

Bakugo clenched a fist, causing a small explosion between his fingers.

"I get to kill 'em first."

"You ever consider seeing a therapist?"

"Seen plenty. You ever consider not sucking so much? Unfortunately, no amount of therapy is gonna fix that."

It crossed Mineta's fatigued mind to lob a couple pop sphere's at Bakugo to stick him to the couch, but he fought the urge. Oh, sure, it would work, and it would be funny—but the almost assured fight to follow was something Mineta didn't feel up for. He barely felt up for being conscious right now.

So when the door to their common room opened again, not only did Mineta tense, but Bakugo, with all his honed reflexes, was up on one knee in an instant, looking wildly ready to fight to the death if need be.

"Bakugoooo! You've! Got! Dun-duh-duh-duh-dun-dunnnnn"—Uraraka pirouetted into the room with all the grace of a three legged giraffe, nearly flipping herself over the common room table—"Detennnnn-shun!" she declared dramatically, ending her routine with a playful peace sign.

When both Mineta and Bakugo awarded her act little more than dual stares of lethargy mixed with hints of pity, Uraraka sighed animatedly, bonking herself over the head with a fist. "I know, I know... I messed up the second pirouette, you don't gotta tell me."

"That's the least of what's wrong with all of what you just did," Mineta told her, sinking back into a pile of bruised flesh. Likewise, Bakugo looked extremely annoyed, and Mineta knew it wasn't because of his newly gained detention, but because there was no one to fight.

"You can tell Aizawa-sensei his detention can fuck right off," Bakugo snapped, draping himself over the back of the couch with his eyes trained diligently on the common room door.

"Nope, don't think I'll be doing that," Uraraka replied easily, waving a passing hand in front of her face, "but, I think I'll be joining you in detention..."

That sounded more than a little confusing, especially coming from Uraraka, but Mineta didn't possess the strength to even get up on his elbows when she took a seat next to him with a broad smile.

"I was sent to bring back Bakugo but now I can see you've got one foot in the grave, Mineta," she said matter-of-factly.

"Well, I guess that's what happens after you struggle through a whole life's worth of fights in the span of four days," Mineta shrugged. "You should get back to class, though, Uraraka-chan—Bakugo's waiting for someone to jump me so he can fight, he's not coming back."

"Damn right I'm not!" Bakugo boomed, falling into a fierce cross-legged position and slamming his hands to his knees. "Someone's gonna try... maybe a dozen someone's, and I can't wait..."

In a good impression of Iida, Uraraka gestured with both hands at the fiery blonde. "Murder, murder, kill!" she chanted enthusiastically.

Smirking devilishly, Bakugo nodded. "Exactly."

"Is what we're _not_ going to do!" Uraraka finished, aiming her hands toward the sky and shaking her head.

"Too late," said Mineta, "you've already got him going, look... you can basically see the jail time in his eyes..."

Not too long after Bakugo finished calling the both of them "gutless pansies," the common room door blew itself open and this time Mineta didn't jump, choosing instead to humbly accept whoever had come to beat him into jelly. He was already jelly anyway.

"Oh, don't tell me," he heard Bakugo groan after a couple seconds silence, and the irate bomber slapped himself over the forehead. "Tell me they didn't send you... tell me it ain't so."

Thinking it was an opponent far beneath Bakugo's time, Mineta lifted his head a quarter of an inch, enough to glance over the couch and see Koda standing there, looking just as uncomfortable as he had ever seen him. Well, that explained the silence: instead of talking, Koda conversed the way he normally did: by sign language. Mineta didn't think it possible but Koda somehow managed to convey his meekness even through his hand movements.

"Um... Aizawa-sensei, er... he sent me to—" Koda started, trying to gather the vocal courage, but Bakugo waved him down.

"Eh, rock dude, shut up," he barked, trying to angle his head around Koda's rather bulky figure. "We ain't goin' back so you might as well bite a detention like gravity girl over here and take a seat."

The thought of taking part in such a ghastly offense actually caused the color to drain from Kona's craggily face and he wavered on the spot.

And just when it looked like Koda might faint, a strong and sturdy tail reinforced him from the back and Ojiro's smirking face popped up over his shoulder.

"So, this is what we're doing? Just ignoring Aizawa-sensei and hanging out with Mineta?" he wondered, staring from Uraraka, who nodded happily, to Bakugo, who venomously shrugged.

"We ain't hangin' with this purple freak—we're trynna see if more idiots wanna pop up for a fight," Bakugo clarified.

"That's what _he's_ here for," Uraraka further clarified. "_I'm_ here because Mineta looks like he could use some company."

"Sweet." Ojiro thumped his chest with a fist. "Count me in. C'mon, Koda, let's get a seat."

Clearly looking as though he would rather jump into a tar pit and suffer the painfully terrible death to follow, Koda fervently shook his head, but was led to the chairs anyway.

Asui followed Ojiro not more than fifteen seconds later, her vacant, frog-like expression displaying what could only be interpreted as "should've seen this stupidity coming" and wordlessly found a seat next to Uraraka, who had been rapidly waving her over.

This... was kinda cool, Mineta figured, somehow garnering enough of God's blessing to find his head placed over the incredible softness of Momo's lap, how Aizawa-sensei seemed to be sending the entirety of their class to help him and that they all seemed eager to do so. Indeed, he almost couldn't believe it when Momo—_the_ Yaoyorozu Momo—offered her lap as a pillow after noticing he was bereft of one. She, along with a few of the others, seemed far more at home with him in their presence than they used to be; his mind was still reeling that Bakugo had actually asked how he was doing a couple hours prior.

"Tokoyami-kun! The northwest entry—all clear?" called Iida.

Posted up against the wall with a small cup of coffee in his hand, Tokoyami nodded wordlessly.

"Aoyama!" Iida shouted, twisting the other way. "The central doorway—any movement?"

After poking his head out the door and scanning left and right, Aoyama made a beautiful showing of twirling back into the room. "All's clear," he declared magnificently.

Iida pushed up his glasses with a single finger, catching the light with his lens. "Good." He turned to address the room. "Everyone! Continue to rest! We are safe!"

"I doubt they would be so foolhardy as to try and attack us using the same method as before," Shoji reasoned, using Kaminari as a weight for three of his arms and Ashido for the other three.

"If they were foolhardy enough for the first time, then they just might be for a second," Izuku said, glancing up from perusing Sero's vast collection of pro hero cards. "Given what they're after, and what they've done previously, we can't rule out a possible second attempt."

"Let 'em try, let 'em _all_ try," Bakugo growled.

Half the room, including Kirishima and Ojiro, agreed with Bakugo while the other half more or less felt ambivalent, as neither Todoroki or Jiro looked particularly charged to endure another class room spanning battle.

"Don't get used to this," Momo muttered down at Mineta's lopsidedly smiling face. "This is only because you... well, it's just been really tough this week and... I guess you've been trying really hard so... so just shut up and rest for a few minutes."

A few minutes may have been what she said but in Mineta's head, they were coming around to the hour mark. He only knew this because he was keeping track of every blissful second he managed to remain in contact with those smooth, creamy thighs of hers that carried this sweet aroma reminiscent of vanilla. She was blushing somewhat and staring down at him with this slight frown and Mineta could tell she was embarrassed over what she had just said.

He wanted to tease her about it, he wanted to call her cute, but he also didn't feel being punted clear across the room and ruining the moment, so he decided to obey instead and nestled further into her warmth.

"Thanks, Momo."

"Whatever..."

* * *

**SATURDAY**

The crowd in front of U.A. was ridiculously big, unprecedented even, for a hazy Saturday morning. Not only was the whole of class 1-A in attendance, but so were several from class 1-B and smatterings of students from the other classes. All of them had turned out to see Mt. Lady, who was to meet Mineta at U.A. to begin their day together.

"Is she here yet? Huh? Can you see? Is she?" Mina asked Kirishima excitedly, even though everyone had the same vantage point as the next person.

Still, Kirishima was just as amped and stretched onto his tippy-toes, glancing over heads and horns and wings and other quirk-like attributes jutting from the other students. "No—not yet... she's not here yet, but man! When she _does_ get here though!" he bubbled, and Mina let loose an elated squeal.

With one eye closed and standing quite at his leisure, Tokoyami kept a stern, watchful gaze on Mineta, who stood out from the others, front and center in wait for Mt. Lady to arrive. "I did not think such an event required this many people to attend..."

"Especially when it ain't got jack shit to do with them," Bakugo snarled, and he had firmly positioned himself less then ten feet behind Mineta, ready, willing, and eager for someone, anyone, to try something stupid.

"Well, I mean, if you wanna go that way about it, this doesn't really concern us either," Toru pointed out, and even though she couldn't be seen by any metric, the look of apprehension that scrunched her face when Bakugo whipped around at her was unmissable. "I-I-I mean, Mineta won so..."

"This past week has been a lot of things," Todoroki began, and it was a marvel that his low tones carried above the rampant cheering of the crowds. He sounded contemplative, like he couldn't parse his own words, or figure out where they were coming from. "Before this contest, to be transparent... I don't think I considered myself close with any of you at all. We were just bodies in a room working toward a shared goal. But now... now? I'm more than ready to freeze the next soul that steps toward Mineta with a hand raised that isn't trying to hail a taxi."

And that was all Todoroki said.

And as all of class 1-A stared at the normally distant boy with varying looks of astonishment, that was really all that needed to be said.

Because they felt the same. Over the last five days, thanks to Mineta's victory, all of them, even Bakugo (though he would sooner take a bullet to the stomach than admit it) felt as though they had grown closer, _deeper,_ as a result. From developing combo moves to offering tidbits about one another's quirks to just the general sense of heightened camaraderie...

"Oh! Look, look!" Toru thrilled, pointing up.

A pair of snow white doves had broken free of the surrounding forest and fluttered over to Koda, perching themselves over his shoulder. After a few short, communicative chirps, Koda's expression lit up like a Christmas tree, and then several things happen in quick succession: Iida inhaled so sharply that he started choking; Uraraka grew unknown shades of red in the face; Aoyama began to sparkle more than he usually did; Tokoyami opened his other eye; but it was Mina who, after latching onto Kirishima's arm and squeezing for dear life, shouted, "SHE'S ALMOST HERE!"

"MY ARRRM!" Kirishima wailed, feeling the strength of Mina's grip crack even his Hardening quirk, but his cry of pain was all but drowned out when the hordes gathered suddenly broke out in riotous cheers.

The roar was deafening but Mineta kept his gaze forward, feeling almost detached from the rest of those gathered, from even his classmates, who were making their own excited little noises here and there. Oh, sure, he was excited to meet Mt. Lady, and on any normal occasion, he would have already prepared several instances through which he could sneak a feel of her thighs or manage to smash his face against her butt (because being small had its perks), so the fact that he stood there at a lean, one hand in his pocket and bereft of a single perverted mission plan, was a testament to the growth he had underwent in the hellish week leading up to this moment.

Because when the gates U.A. began to open at a dramatically slow pace, and when Mt. Lady finally made her long awaited appearance looking the perfect example of beauty and superheroism, unlike the cheering crowds around him, Mineta only smiled with nary an uptick in his heartbeat or flutter in his stomach.

"What a crowd!" Mt. Lady exclaimed to those gathered, extending her arms as if to embrace them all despite the lurking shadow of her number one helper glaring down any ill-conceived thoughts of approaching.

As she closed the gap between herself and the waiting Mineta, several choice remarks began to skirt through the air, like "You lucky bastard!" and "If you touch her with one those stupid balls, I swear—" and "You better shut your mouth and listen to whatever she says!" to pick a few of the tamer ones.

Those threatening tidbits bounced off Mineta without so much as a murmur, especially with some of his louder classmates shouting their own encouraging snippets, and he returned the enthusiastic wave Mt. Lady was giving him, sinking into a respectful brow when she stopped.

"Welcome to U.A.," he said, glancing up and smiling, "you might have heard of the place before."

Sensing his joke, Mt. Lady smiled down at Mineta. "Yes, I might have, a couple times here and there," she responded in kind, and then strangely extended her hand.

The gesture brought a wave of confusion; what was she doing? Did her hand have a cramp? Was she going to lead him out hand-in-hand like this was some sort of date? But Mineta reacted almost knowingly by undoing a small latch on his right pant leg, one that most assuredly was not part of the original design, and fished out a circular golden coin emblazoned with the words "free day" on both sides.

The school-wide collective gasp that followed sounded like the start-up to a hurricane.

"THE BASTARD HAD IT ON HIM THE WHOLE TIME!" someone yelled from the right.

"IT WASN'T EVEN A TICKET!" shouted another.

"HE LIED!"

"Sure did," Mineta admitted freely, patting his leg. "Got it from the principal the same day I won, and then I asked Asui to make me an extra pocket to hide it."

The sound of multiple necks snapping was borderline nauseating, but everyone, including those in class 1-A whipped around to face the vacant-faced frog girl. She didn't really meet anyone's gaze. Instead, she tipped her pointing finger against her lip and kept silent. Until Uraraka gripped her by the shoulders in a series of fierce shakes that caused Tsuyu to "ribbit" with each bounce.

"You knew this _whole_ time?" she questioned energetically. "This _whoooole _time you knew he had the ticket on him?"

"And you didn't tell anyone?" Iida questioned spastically.

From Uraraka to Iida to the rest of her class, Tsuyu's gaze shifted, until landing back on Uraraka. "A friend came to me needing help, _ribbit_, and I helped him," she responded evenly.

Her answer was so simple and honest and just so Asui that far from looking upset, the rest of her classmates broke out in smiles, except for Bakugo; he just spit off to the side while Aoyama pirouetted in place, launching a sea of glitter into the air.

"Ah, _tres magnifique_!" he gushed. "Sublime, Asui, darling—simply _sublime_!"

"Eh! Watch it with that shiny shit!" Bakugo snapped.

"That's pretty hardcore, Asui," Kirishima congratulated, giving a thumbs up with the arm that wasn't currently hanging limply at his side. "You helped him _and_ kept his secret, that's cool."

"_Ribbit, _I was just helping a friend," Tsuyu replied modestly, though her cheeks did flush somewhat.

Beaming with determination, Izuku turned to Mineta. "Like Todoroki-san said... we've learned so much this past week, grown so much... I don't think this would have happened with anybody else except you, Mineta."

"That's true enough," Toru agreed. "Nobody would have even thought _twice_ to say anything if Todoroki had won, or Bakugo—"

"I _did_ win, you hollow murderer," Bakugo shot back, looking surly as ever. "How many times I gotta tell you clods that the midget cheated?"

"As many times as it takes for you to believe it yourself, I'd guess," Jiro said with a smirk.

"It wasn't just me, though," Mineta said, and he stared at the coin sitting in his palm, then made a fist around it. "It was all of you guys, too...None of you _had_ to help me, but you did anyway. Asui made me that pocket, Bakugo had my back in several fights, Aoyama helped turn my vile appearance into rugged chic, Momo-chan is soft—each of you helped me to get here... to enjoy being able to do _this_."

Grinning to himself, and mostly because he heard Momo issue one of her adorable little embarrassed squeaks, Mineta flicked the coin skywards, caught it between his pointing and index fingers, and offered it to Mt. Lady.

"I don't need this anymore," he told her with the most carefree smile.

It was perhaps the loudest that U.A. had ever gotten, the outrage and confused yells, reaching a noise pitch that Jiro could only ever dream of producing with her quirk—but it was all summarily reduced to mere murmurs when Miyuki stepped out from behind Mt. Lady, lifted a single hand, uttered, "Silence," and lowered it. The speed at which the noise level fell gave the impression that it was quirk-related but it went by unnoticed under Mineta's outlandish claim.

Looking as though expecting to hear those very words, Mt. Lady accepted the coin and placed a hand on her hip. "I figured you'd say that," she said with a wink, then adding, "I'm proud of you, Mineta-kun."

"I'm proud of _us_," Mineta said graciously, gesturing back at his classmates.

"And so you should be." Mt. Lady nodded, her gaze sweeping over the rest of class 1-A, a majority of whom were shaking with anticipation. "You all should be. I can see that in just a week, you've learned more and progressed further than anything I could impart on you. That, little rookies, is the mark of a true hero."

Several faces beamed back at her after hearing this and she pocketed the contest coin.

"Welp, since you don't need the coin, I guess you don't need to spend the day with Mt. Lady," she surmised, tilting her hips.

While some extremely jealous souls in the crowd openly cheered and clapped at this depressing realization, Mineta gave a woebegone sigh, but then perked up somewhat with a shrug.

"Eh, it is what it is," he conceded, rubbing behind his neck. "I'm happy with what I already won, Mt. Lady, thanks to you. Can't win 'em all."

Uraraka was beside herself crying righteous tears. "So—_grk—_accepting!" she ground out, while Tokoyami nodded wisely.

"He's come a long way," he acknowledged in rumbling tones.

"True, you can't win them all," Mt. Lady agreed, and then she reached up, pulling off her mask and horns, smirking at the second shared gasp that rippled through the masses, "but when you gain so much at such an extraordinary cost... sometimes you can."

"Huh...?" Mineta's breath caught, a lump forming in his throat. "S-sometimes you... can?"

Eyes beginning to glisten, he watched as the woman before him shook her hair with a freeing sigh and passed her hero costume accoutrements to Miyuki, hardly daring to hope.

"So!" she continued. "You may have missed your chance to hang out with Mt. Lady, but Yu Takeyama would be _honored_ to spend the day with such a hardworking hero-in-the-making, if you don't mind?"

When a single tear raced down Mineta's bandaged cheek, he already knew he would never hear the end of it from Bakugo and a few others about how pathetic he must look to start crying over something so trivial, but as his fellow classmates began to clap behind him, Mineta suddenly remembered some uplifting words All Might had shared from a past interview... words about smiling because... because those who smiled, even when it was _hard_... those were the strongest types of all.

They could become true heroes.

And so he smiled. It was the most quivering, wettest smile he had ever given, but still... he smiled as he reached for her hand.

"I'd... I'd love that."

**FIN**


End file.
